


Regret takes a little time

by rabble_dabble_writes



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, One-sided John Egbert/Karkat Vantas - Freeform, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Unrequited Love, can i say that i fell in love once? this is kinda ooc, lets just say that i related to karkat in this, this ends somberly, trust me i hurt myself as much as i hurt you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabble_dabble_writes/pseuds/rabble_dabble_writes
Summary: When you first break John’s heart, you’re not around for it.Your name is Karkat Vantas. And it has taken you far too long to realize John Egbert has fallen in love with you.
Relationships: John Egbert/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Regret takes a little time

When you first break John’s heart, you’re not around for it.

Your name is Karkat Vantas. And it has taken you far too long to realize John Egbert has fallen in love with you. 

The type of tranquility of your life nowadays brings a sour taste to your mouth. Not only is it a little suspicious that the game has apparently just  _ given _ you this ending after fighting for so long, but it’s just so easy to become enamored by it. The excitement brought forth to you by your remaining team of friends is more contagious than you thought - and it feels like a double-edged sword is poised at your throat as you watch this new world grow, watch it  _ thrive,  _ and you finally set foot upon a  _ real living planet  _ for the first time in a few years. 

Ugh. Years. You have simply been around too many people for your taste, and it is with a bittersweet clench of your heart that you believe you will never be able to escape that fact. 

Reality does not seem to have given any particular shits - not that it has ever - about whether or not you accept your new home into your new life. As the wiser of your team assemble, plan, and meet to talk about every important issue of where, when, and how you will all reside as gods among your rightfully earned place in a universe, you wander off with the knowledge you won’t be any particular use to your team at the moment and stand at the beginning edges of a beautiful grassy meadow, watching for the first time as a sun that cannot burn your eyes off breathtakingly paints the sky with your blood color. 

It is more disgustingly perfect than you could have imagined.

Then someone softly grazes the edges of your sight, and you turn to face the intruder. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” John whispers stupidly because there is no reason to be quiet at all, but you think you can hear a hint of longing in his voice that lets you know it isn’t a question for you.

“I don’t know how you could’ve watched this every day,” You say instead, squinting because the horizon grows golden and terrifying. “It’s too much.”

He bumps your shoulder and replies, “The beautiful things are worth repeatedly looking for,”

You don’t answer but shove him, and he laughs.

And again, who are you to question the state of your new life, finding a difference within the Earth trees and daytime noises that sing of peace and beauty? You would hate it, fuck, you  _ want  _ to hate it, so badly, but you can’t bring yourself to want to strike down every living thing that thrives here. The beginning permanence of it has already burrowed its way into your heart, throbbing with a type of pain that reminds you of home and yet seems like a cleaner, somehow more pure version of what you could’ve wished the word “safety” always meant. And among your friends, it takes an even more horrible ring, as you think about far too often the difference of their faces  _ before _ they won the game, and the clear  _ after _ where their eyes sparkle and their breathing catches and you try your hardest to resist wiping away the tears they shed. Because they’re  _ happy _ tears. Not ones of grief or sadness or pain or all the other kinds of hurt you wish you could prevent for them. And they don’t need you to clean up the mess they make themselves into when they’re strong enough to do it themselves.

You’re so glad they think you are, too, when you have to often dab away blobs of pale red into coincidentally red cloths.

With your new life ahead of you, it’s easier to get lost in the smaller things. Now that everything is  _ behind _ you, you’re relieved to find you still keep looking forward. That your mind did not stop thinking and is in fact thinking about your day to day life as always. The place and event is sure different, but planning to hang out with friends or exploring a little more of the world you helped to create fills your mind with small and tedious worries that make it seem like the previous - and far more life-threatening ones- were lesser than ever. Jade gushes to you about all the new friends she makes. Kanaya details you the supposedly exciting details of her engagement with Rose. John comes over too often with movies. 

He comes over far,  _ far _ too often. 

John lingers as your thoughts do over mistakes. He isn’t exactly unwanted, as with everything else in your life he has snagged a tight little corner of your heart to preside over and poke, which you deal with mildly. So what if he invites himself in with your favorite kind of candy? Or the same version of your favorite human movie?? The expectance of his presence is the same with everything else in your new written version of your life - it’s certainly  _ there _ , and it reminds you to sit dumbly on the floor sometimes about the fact your life has been a bit wild. Events after events that never seem like they should fit together, and more often than not feel like a movie. But the worst part is that you can remember how it felt like to live through every moment, so it dominates the thought of  _ it was real _ as an empty echo to the wind - giving you doubt, disbelief in it, because it all feels  _ so different _ than it was as yesterday. 

He lingers too closely. He feels like a warmth you could have wanted a few years ago, possibly truly did want, but you’re already past that stage. The recurring thoughts had run its course with him, with possibilities, and you’re finding yourself more reminiscent about it rather than pleased. Sure, you had wanted to possibly grow closer to him when you were younger. When you had first engaged the possibility of doing so. But that type of flame grew colder, grew less bright as another had taken its place, which was the possibility of a  _ future _ gleaming as an untouchable torched aimed only forward. You accepted slowly as you thought less of him, gleaming on connecting thoughts but never directly focusing on him immediately anymore, and the sense of relief as you all reached for the white door of your ending and a new beginning only widened that feeling immensely. 

Still, you can’t say you’re not glad to have him around.

He makes you think. About what you want with your life. Before, you hadn’t dared to do so. But with the open possibilities of endless nights and brave good mornings, the possibility of the next day had never felt so pleasantly welcome to you. Of course, he uses it to say things like “We should go stargazing,” or “Let’s go take a stroll in the city!” but more often than not you think  _ to hell with it  _ because it’s your life and the things you can achieve with it, now, and damn everything if you’re going to let it waste away. You run a little faster and breathe a little harder than he does, still at your side, and he’ll laugh for it but you just don’t let yourself think about it as you would have done so harshly before. John helps with that, in making you think a little bit more of  _ why does it matter _ in that careless way he giggles delightfully for. 

But it is there. And it spreads as an ache among all of you, as the pieces of life fall into a comfortable place and it gets easier to not question it. That doesn’t mean you  _ don’t,  _ because there are nights your eyes are too restless to close and your heart is too sad to let sleep seep in, but it does have a comfortable edging ease to it. You all find something to ease into, to think about as you can tiredly fall into a dreamless slumber, and let the overwhelmingness of it all take you into oblivion unfeeling and painlessly. 

To your misfortune, apparently, John thinks you are supposed to be his appeasing ease. 

It’s a little bit of your fault, like the times he starts clinging onto your hand a little too tightly you pretend that you don't know he is letting the cracks of his brokenness, akin to all of yours, show. Or when there are days you are silent and unknowing, and he fills the air with talking and talking until you have to shove a couch pillow at his face to finally shut him up. Or when he unexpectedly shows up in the middle of a day without warning, and you see in his face the familiar workings of loneliness in his strained smile. You just let him in and let him sit on the couch while you fill him in on the latest drama you are watching, and he doesn’t ask any questions except the title so that he can start at the beginning of it later when he is back home. 

But you didn’t know. You didn’t- you aren’t  _ aware _ of the awfulness of it until Terezi lets you know. 

Because she calls you, and she’s open with her feelings because some days it’s a little easier being open and accessible about them than let the world pry them painfully out of the chest, and you’ve all learned this lesson the hard way. She talks to you about regrets and missed opportunities and seconds chances, and she reminds you of bittersweet ageless memories that you have about everything and everyone. She asks you,  _ how long do you want to keep missing these important things?  _ And you answer,  _ it always seems like they’re already long gone.  _ And she continues,  _ if you keep thinking like that they’ll continue to be _ , and you respond,  _ tell me something I don’t already know. _

And then she goes,  _ all right. You’re going to break someone’s heart. _

And even though you spend the rest of the night awake, you know her answer was wrong. Because you already  _ knew. _

You don’t know when. You just didn’t think about it. You hadn’t allowed yourself to, mostly out of cowardice, half out of sickening curiosity. It was a fine mistress that had let you think and observe the days around you, like you were some sneaky double-sided agent who could catch the day’s slip up. But you do know that you’ve know, for a good long while, just how awful John’s soft gazing at you felt. 

And you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. You, in your cowardice, decided to just stand aside and let it lead. You were half hopeful you could give him what you wanted; you were half angry with yourself for thinking you needed to appease him. But talks with your past and future self led you to one certain stone thought- you were undoubtedly going to break his heart. You just didn’t know when yet. 

And it’s not like you let yourself stop. You talked to him daily, you interacted with him enthusiastically, and he was your  _ friend.  _ But, unknown to him, friendship was all you were ever going to give him. Even though you didn’t want to, you knew with certainty that this would not end the way he hopefully wanted. 

And it broke you down, every time, to see him look at you like it would. 

But John, in the same way that you like to avoid things, does not let on when he figures it out either. You think it has something to do with the time- how there does not seem to be the change he tries to achieve. He never uncomfortably puts you into anything you don’t want, but he must get it at  _ some  _ point how you aren’t trying. How you are so casual about it. How you focus on no one but yourself. 

How you talk about the future, but not specifying anything certain except you for certainty.

There will be a life one day. A day where one’s hand will clasp your own. Where you’ll wake up with all the world’s sunshine next to you. A day where you’ll find it easier with an extra someone to help you get up in the morning and sleep at night. And how you might help them too. There will be a day, in your life, that you know you will always love looking forward to. 

You had already long since imagined that life with John. And you remember how you did. But now, that fantasy is stored alongside a few other wishful hopes that you’ve long since looked past, lives with other people who have moved on like you. And you feel regretful that it took him so long to catch up, but you know you cannot give him the life he must imagine with you now, especially since you no longer think about it anymore. 

He disappears for a few days, which you’re well aware of, and then he comes back with a wider smile.

When you open the door, he holds up  _ Titanic _ and a bag of chips, going, “Miss me?”

As you welcome him in and set up your movie, you can feel his eyes on you. They don’t linger as long as they had for the few days beforehand, but you ignore the simple task of asking. You take your place on the couch and reside to sit the beginning of the movie session in silence. 

When you finally feel his hand edge at yours during the saddest parts, you let him take it and pretend his crying is from that. You hear his muffled sobs at an echoing distance, but you adamantly refuse to let yourself look over, letting him grieve about you peacefully. And when the movie ends with the screen remaining black for a long time, him quiet, he lets your hand go, and wordlessly leaves.

The next day he comes back again, but this time, he doesn’t reach for your hand.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my wistful goodbye; i let him go.


End file.
